


Blood Moon

by hiddenembers07



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha!Steve, BAMF!Nat, Enemies to Lovers, M/M, Supernatural AU - Freeform, Vampire!Howard, Vampire!Nat, Vampires, Werewolf!Bruce, Werewolf!Steve, Werewolves, prince!Tony, vampire!Tony, werewolf!Bucky
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-04
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-03-13 12:20:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13570476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiddenembers07/pseuds/hiddenembers07
Summary: “Well, damn, Stevie, crazy and stupid,” the tall brunette says, leaning against one of the walls. “You sure he’s the only one?”“There’s no one else,” the blonde says.“My name is Steven Rogers,” he continues.  “They call me the Captain.**Tony's the young, arrogant vampire prince that gets abducted by Stane, only to be rescued months later by Steve and his pack to try and stop Stane from destroying their world.





	1. Abduction

**Author's Note:**

> *deep breath* my first fic that isn't a one shot prompt! I'm a little bit nervous and not even sure I should post this, but I now have over 5k written, and so thought I'd give it shot and see what people think?
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has read and commented on my previous fics! It seriously makes my day to see!

There are four ways to kill a vampire.

It’s something Howard had taught him at a young age.

The first; was beheading. A blade , a shot, anything really that separates the head and the body would kill them, just like it would any creature.

The second; a stake through the heart. Tony had been unable to hold in the snort at how stereotypical it sounded, only to be met by Howard’s sharp eyes, and even sharper tongue, as he explained in detail the mechanics and agony of it.

The third was poison. Silver, vervain, garlic. Enough of it on a weapon or in blood could cause death. It certainly wasn’t a fool proof way. If old enough the vampire could work the poison out of their body, or if they could get a source of clean blood, it would neutralize the poison, but it was a possibility.

The fourth was starvation.

And the fourth, the fourth he had said was the cruelest way to kill them, the way most hunters would kill them if they had the chance. Some kind of revenge for the blood they took from others, a form of torture that the hunters felt was their penance.

Stop a vampire from being able to have blood, and they would slowly wither away and die. It would take months, years, depending on how old the vampire was, but if they were locked away long enough, without a source of food, like every other animal they would perish.

Tony had remembered hearing the way Howard had spoken about it, a shiver running down his spine, as he imagined it.

Howard had told him that it rarely happened, that hunters found it difficult enough to kill them, let alone capture them so that they could lock them up, but it had happened.

Tony had just never thought that he would be one of the ones to experience it.

He’d been so cocky, so certain in his strength, his training, his technology.

He’d been wrong.

He’s not sure how they managed to ambush the convoy, the details of their path only known to a few. He’d been bantering with some of the lower level guards when they’d been hit. Which normally wouldn’t have been enough to take him, or even the guards out, but they’d had one of his sonic tasers, something he’d created to protect Howard’s kingdom.

They hadn’t stood a chance.

At first he’d thought it was the werewolves. He’d not missed the rumour running around that there had been a change in leadership, heard that a new Alpha had taken control of the packs, a wolf that the underground had started jokingly calling the ‘Captain’, with his second, ‘the Soldier’ by his side.

The rumor was that the Captain was out to take out the Vampire Kingdom, Howard and Tony in particular.

Tony had waved it off. It wasn’t the first, or the last, time that he would hear that, he was sure.

So when they were hit, his first thought was that it was werwolves, right up until he’d seen Hammer’s face.

Hammer who worked for Stane.

The same Stane who was his sire’s closest advisor, who had helped Howard build the vampire kingdom to what it was now.

“Why?” he’d asked, trying to fight against the disabling device.

“Because it should’ve been me,” Hammer had snarled back, before the noise turned everything to black.

That had been over nine months ago, and Tony knows that his time is running out. He’s only been a vampire going on nineteen years now. And whilst he probably has many months before he perishes, he only has another one or two before it will be impossible for him to save himself.

To save his sire and kingdom.

Because if Obidiah takes the throne, he will have to kill Howard to take it, and the only way to do that is war.

The man has been pushing Howard to go to war with the werewolves for centuries. Recently, with Howard talking about peace with their old enemies, the man had stepped up his campaign, and this was no doubt another step in his plan.

Once Tony is dead, he has no doubt Obidiah will make it look like wolves killed him. And Tony knows that Howard won’t be able to let that insult pass. His own childe taken, tortured and killed in the worse way they know.

If he retaliates, it’s war with their old enemies.

If he doesn’t, the other factions will see Howard as weak, and a civil war will break out.

Either way, Obidiah will get what he wants. War with the werewolves, or war with the other vampire clans, it will be the perfect time for him to take Howard out.

So he needs to figure out how to get out of here, and soon. Unfortunately Hammer knows that if they leave anything remotely technologically based, that he’ll have it apart and used as a weapon in no time.

All that’s in his room is a single bed, the dusty floor and a small window.

No one’s visited him for weeks, not even Hammer, who had come to gloat almost every day the first few months he’d been locked away, and then periodically as the months had crawled on.

“Think,” he mutters to himself, pushing his fisted hand against his head, but it’s so hard, the thoughts coming through what feels like fog.

A sharp howl clears it for a few moments, the sound long and strong, his eyes flicking to the window where he can see the night sky, the moon shining brightly. The single howl is met by others, all of them coming from around him.

Standing, Tony stumbles towards the window, hearing quickly picking up the sounds of fighting, of snarling, of screaming.

He’s not sure how long he stands there before the sounds cut off, the silence ringing in his ears.

He already knows who’s won, even before the door opens to two figures that he’s never seen before, but that he can tell are wolves purely by their smell and their stance.

“Anthony Stark.”

The figures stalk into his cell, one tall and blonde, ice blue eyes meeting Tony’s. He feels like he’s been weighed and measured in that single stare, and been found beyond wanting. The other figure stalks to his other side, tall and brunette, pale blue eyes staring intensely, taking in all of Tony, like he can see all of his weaknesses.

He can’t help the chuckle that escapes him. It quickly followed by full out laughter, enough to have him falling against the wall, legs giving out beneath him, as he realizes just how screwed he is.

He has no hope against two fully grown werewolves in the state he’s in. Hell, even a recently turned wolf would probably be able to finish him. All those months, and now he’s going to be killed by the group that he thought had been responsible for this.

The brunette cocks his head to the side, frowning at Tony, before looking over at the blonde.

“They didn’t say he was crazy, Stevie.”

The blonde frowns at him, taking a step forward, before being stopped by a voice.

“He’s not. He’s starving.”

The sound of the other voice has the laughter ending, a smaller brunette striding in.

“What?” the blonde asks, tearing his eyes from where he’d been staring at Tony, to glance at the newcomer.

“He’s not crazy,” the new brunette says, opening his bag, and pulling out a bag full of blood. Tony scrunches his nose in disgust, but his mouth starts salivating.

It’s been so long since he ate.

“It’s one of the ways to kill them,” the brunette continues, throwing the bag to Tony, who can’t help but rip it open and start chugging it down.

“The cruelest. You lock them away and they starve to death, it’s slow and painful, and they will go crazy before the end, but by then they can do little more than lay there.”

The other two look at the brunette in horror.

“People do that?” the blonde asks, Tony able to hear the disgust in his voice.

He doesn’t hear the reply to that, the blood having hit his system, the fogginess that had been clouding his thoughts clearing somewhat, enough to take in the three men in front of him.

“Who are you?” he croaks out, resting his head back against the wall.

“You honestly don’t know who we are?” the blonde asks, interrupting something the smaller brunette had been saying.

“Should I?” Tony replies.

“Well, damn, Stevie, crazy and stupid,” the tall brunette says, leaning against one of the walls. “You sure he’s the only one?”

“There’s no one else,” the blonde says.

“My name is Steven Rogers,” he continues. “They call me the Captain.”


	2. And So It Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “There’s really no easy way to say this,” Bucky continues, staring at Steve a moment longer, before turning to Stark.
> 
> “Your sire is dead.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, thank you so much to everyone who has read/kudos'd/commented/bookmarked the last chapter! It made my day to see it! Hope you enjoy the next chapter?
> 
> Where Tony and Steve clash instantly (of course) and poor Bucky is left shaking his head and wondering how this is his life (he loves it!)

“I thought vampires didn’t sleep?”

Steve glares through the two way mirror into the cell, staring at the dark haired vampire resting on the bed, looking almost innocent, with his long lashes resting against his cheeks, hair sticking up in tufts, cupid bow of a mouth resting slightly op-

He tears his eyes away, stopping the thoughts before they can go any further. The man is a vampire

A killer.

Their _enemy_.

Albeit an enemy who’s help they need.

Bucky snorts behind him, Steve’s glare shifting to his mate, who simply smirks and raises an eyebrow. His second knows him well enough to know exactly what he’s thinking. Steve hadn’t missed the appreciative looks Bucky had sent the vampire when they’d been transporting him back to their base.

“He’s not technically sleeping,” Bruce replies, not paying attention to the staring match going on between the Alpha and his second. “It’s more of a meditative state. Vampires usually do it every few days, it keeps them alert and functioning at their peak level, though they can function without doing it. In Stark’s case, I doubt he thought he’d be safe enough to do it whilst being under Stane’s hospitality. Not to mention that there have been documented cases of vampires going on rampages when trying to meditate whilst starving.”

Steve still feels slightly sick when he thinks of what Stane was doing to the Stark Prince. He doesn’t miss the irony that the Vampires claim they are cruel beasts, when they are capable of doing something like this, something they consider the worst kind of torture, to one of their own, to their own Prince.

“Interesting,” Bucky murmurs.

“He’ll probably be alert in the next couple of hours,” Bruce continues. “And would most likely be more receptive to your proposal if he were to wake up in a room, and not another cell.”

“We’ve had this conversation,” Steve growls, looking over at the doctor. “It’s safer for us, with the blood back in his system, for him to be locked up until we know his answer.”

Bruce shakes his head, sighing.

“The blood from the bag won’t give him that much strength,” he replies. “And after what he’s been through, waking up in a bed in a room, and not a cell is likely to make him more likely to listen.”

“Bruce,” Steve warns, and the other man lifts his hands, tilting his head slightly.

“Alright, Cap,” he replies. “It’s your call.”

With that, he leaves the room. Steve watching him go for a few seconds, before looking back at the bed.

“He is awfully pretty.”

Steve glares over at his second, watching as the wolf pushes off the wall and swaggers over to him, their shoulders resting against each other.

“He’s a means to an end.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I mean it, Buck,” Steve replies, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Oh, I know,” Bucky says, looking over at him for a long moment, before looking back at the vampire.

“We can’t be distracted.”

“You saying he’s distracting?”

“That’s no- What are-” he stutters out, glaring at his second. “I don’t have time to argue about this with you.”

Before Bucky can say something, and Steve knows he was going to continue by the smirk on his face, he hears a soft sound, like an exhale, and then Stark is standing at the glass, staring at it intently.

“I know you’re behind there,” he says, eyes narrowing. “I can hear your hearts beating.”

Steve stares at him for a moment, before stalking over to the door that will led them into the cell, Bucky on his left like always.

Entering the cell, Steve doesn’t miss the way Stark backs into the corner, eyeing them both warily. Staring at his eyes, Steve can’t help but be distracted for a moment by the different eye colour, one auburn, the other sapphire, able to see the intelligence and caution there, before the emotions seem to fall behind a shutter, a mask of nonchalance and a smirk, which starts to grate on Steve immediately, snapping into place.

“So Captain,” he starts before Steve can open his mouth. “You haven’t killed me yet, so that must mean you need something from me.”

It’s a statement, not a question, and the arrogance is grating on Steve even more, his hackles rising.

“Take a seat,” he says, before taking a calming breath through his nose.

“I’m fine standing,” Tony replies, crossing his arms and leaning back against the wall, any calm Steve got from the breath disappearing.

Steve doesn’t miss Bucky’s quiet snort behind him, but he doesn’t have time to glance at his second as he strides over to where the vampire is standing.

“You’re gonna wanna sit down.”

“Is that right?” Stark asks, pushing off the wall and taking a step towards Steve, the movement making it so they’re standing toe to toe, though Stark is smaller than him, having to look up to glare at him.

Steve can feel the itch under his skin, his jaw aching, his bones shifting. He’s not sure how Stark has done it so quickly, but the arrogant vampire is pushing all of the buttons that make him want to let his alpha side out and show just who is the boss in the room.

“Or how about we all just take it down a notch?”

And just like that, Bucky is in between them, gently pushing them away from each other. Steve turns, growl in his throat, only to freeze when he sees the soft look in the other man’s eyes, the raised eyebrow. If it had been anyone else, Steve would've turned, the alpha in him unable to take another challenge, particularly from someone who is in his pack.

But this is Bucky, his best friend, his mate. The man who has never steered him wrong, and never stood between him and another, stopped him, unless there was a good reason for it. He might be the alpha, but he owes his life ten times over to the man holding him back, and if his mate is telling him to stand down, then he'll listen.

Taking a deep breath, he lets Bucky push him back a step.

“There’s really no easy way to say this,” Bucky continues, staring at Steve a moment longer, before turning to Stark.

“Your sire is dead.”

Steve had thought the vampire was still before, but that sentence seems to make every part of him lock up, the mask almost falling away, Steve sure he sees a flash of grief, before it disappears again.

“Okay.”

Steve waits a minute, expecting more of a reaction, unable to believe the calm, cool look he’s seeing on Stark’s face.

“Okay?!” he asks, unable to believe what he’s seeing.

“So why am I here?”

“So- That’s it?” Steve exclaims, taking a step forward, only to be stopped again by Bucky’s soft hand against his chest. He doesn’t push further forward, but can’t stop staring at the man in front of him.

“That’s how you react to the man who practically raised you?”

Tony just stares back at him, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow.

“Let me deal with this,” he hears Bucky murmur into his ear, unable to stop how his body relaxes slightly at the warmth radiating from the other wolf.

He turns his head to glare, to disagree, but again is stopped by the look in Bucky’s eyes.

“Fine,” he growls, turning and stalking out of the room, the door slamming behind him. Standing in the hall way he takes a deep breath to try and calm the itch that's come back. Focusing on his breathing, he doesn’t hear much other than two low voices murmuring. Doesn't really hear the words until Bucky asks the question that had had them searching for Stark in the first place.

“What do you know about a virus called extremis?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Steve might be the big bad alpha now, but when he's with Bucky he's still an awkward pup! Come visit me on [tumblr](https://hiddenembers07.tumblr.com/) and tell me about what you love about the boys (and all the other characters in marvel!)


	3. Extremis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *waves* so I'm so, so sorry with how long it has been. I had some major exams this year that literally took up all my time (work and study was literally all I did for months). But back with another chapter!
> 
> Also, for some reason I did not get notifications for people commenting. So that's my next task tonight! Thank you all so much for reading, commenting and bookmarking. So glad to hear people like it! Hope you continue to :D

Bucky watches his alpha storm out of the room, already expecting the slamming of the door, not flinching when it happens. When he turns back around, he sees the smirk that’s crossed the vampire’s face, Stark back to leaning against the wall.

“You shouldn’t antagonize him like that,” he says, walking over to sit on the bed, leaning forward so his elbows are resting on his knees, hands gripping together loosely. Unlike the other two posturing idiots, he’s tired, and he knows that he can still take the vampire if he were to try anything. A faint scent of leather and oil reaches his nose, easing some of the exhaustion that has settled on him.

“You’re the ones who need me remember?”

“We’re also the ones who could tear your throat out,” Bucky growls back, not missing the harsh swallow that follows the words, staring at Stark’s long slender neck for a moment longer than he probably should.

He might not like vampires, but he wasn’t lying when he told Steve that Stark was pretty, and there’s something about the smooth skin at his neck that just calls to him to mark it, teeth aching a little as the wolf in him stirred at the sight.

Shaking his head, he pushes the thoughts to the back of his mind. Steve was right, they can’t afford any distractions, not at the moment, when everything they’ve built is in the balance.

“I am sorry about Howard,” Bucky continues. “From what we’ve heard he was actually a good man.”

Tony snorts, running a hand through his hair, before pushing off the wall and pacing to the other side.

“Howard was an asshole,” Stark replies. “A perfectionist, who never felt anything was good enough.”

He stops his pacing to look at himself in the mirror, and whilst Steve would’ve probably thought the vampire was just checking himself out, Bucky can tell that he’s not really seeing the person staring back, but rather lost in his own thoughts. He’s done it so many times that it’s obvious when others are doing it.

Given what he was just saying, Bucky doesn’t need to be a mind reader to know that Stark is clearly thinking of the strained relationship he had with his sire. It even more obvious that Stark felt he was never good enough for the king.

“But he was a fair King,” the vampire continues finally, turning away from the mirror. “And he didn’t want his people to suffer, to be at war.”

Bucky almost feels pinned to the spot when Stark’s eyes land back on him. He’s never seen anything like them before. One honey brown, the other crystal blue, both sparkling with an intelligence that the vampire fails to hide. Bucky could get lost in the changes in colour for hours if he had the time.

“Why am I here?” Stark asks again.

“What do you know about a virus called extremis?”

Bucky can feel the way Stark freezes, can see the horror crossing the man’s face as his mask slips. Something eases in Bucky at the sight. He hadn’t been sure, when Steve had first laid out his plan, that Stark was supposedly integral to, that the young Prince would even care. And the limited interaction they’d had so far had just made that concern grow. Seeing Stark’s reaction to the name made something ease in his chest.

“So you have heard of it?” he asks.

Stark looks away from him. 

“Is that how Howard died?”

Bucky can hear the grief and sorrow in the question.

“We don’t know. All we know is that Stane claimed he was poisoned.”

Bucky doesn’t miss the way Stark’s jaw clenches at Stane’s name, nor the way his hands curl into fists, but there is no surprise on his face.

“You think Stane killed your sire?” Bucky can’t help but ask.

“Figured out he was planning to when he had me abducted and thrown into a cell to starve.”

“How?”

When he and Steve had been running through their plan to rescue the young vampire Prince, one of the major concerns had been that Stark would think that they had been responsible for his kidnapping, that he wouldn’t listen to them because of it. There had been rumours running rampant both before and after Stark was kidnapped that their Pack hated the Vampire Clans and was set on destroying them.

It seemed another one of their concerns had been for naught.

“Hammer was one of the assholes at the ambush,” Stark replies, starting his pacing again. “He’s one of Stane’s lackeys.”

“What do you know about extremis?” Bucky asks again, leaving the issue of Stane for another moment. He needs to know how much Stark knows. Pushing himself up off the bed, he moves to stand in front of the vampire, moving to block him as he tries to move around him. Stark stops and glares up at him, and Bucky can’t help but smirk back, not missing the flicker of the man’s eyes to it.

“Extremis,” he repeats.

“It would’ve been over a year ago,” Stark says, words coming slowly, like he’s not sure if he should be revealing the information. “A vampire by the name of Killian came to the castle. He was one of the Lords from one of the more distant clans, said he had something that would appeal to my father, make him unstoppable.”

“Extremis?”

Stark nods, his eyes getting a faraway look, pain crossing his face as he sees something.

“It was meant to help people. The being who created it, she just wanted to help. But Killian, and his group, they’d turned it into something cruel and-”

“They told you how deadly it was?”

“They _showed_ us.”

Stark’s face is devoid of the mask now, the disgust and fear clear to see. Bucky almost reaches out to him, wants to pull him close and wipe the look away, hand reaching forward, only to freeze as he remembers who Stark is and that the action likely wouldn’t endear him to the other man.

“You’ve seen what it can do?”

“In horrifying, excruciating detail,” Stark replies, shaking his head. “I’ve never seen something so- so-“

“Evil?”

Stark nods, swallowing hard.

Bucky can’t help but reach out for him then, hand gently gripping his forearm and giving it a squeeze, hating the look on the other man’s face. He’d expected Stark to shake him off or to glare down at it, but the man relaxes, exhaustion seeming to emanate off him in waves now.

Bucky hasn’t forgotten what Bruce said, about how the blood they’d given him was likely only just keeping the vampire upright, what little strength he’d gained from it clearly fading away now.

“So why am I here?” Stark repeats again, almost seeming to lean into the grip that Bucky has on his arm. It’s just as Bucky is about to open his mouth to reply that he realises that the vampire is swaying slightly.

“We need to get you some food.”

That gets a snort out of Stark, who takes a step back, pulling his arm away.

“Or you could tell me why I’m here?”

Bucky stares at him for a moment longer, before nodding to himself.

“Once you’re fed.”

Stark raises an unimpressed eyebrow at him.

“You’re gonna be okay eating with a vampire?” he asks. “You know what we eat right?”

Bucky snorts.

“Daisies?” he replies sarcastically, making his way over to the door.

“Your Alpha’s not gonna be happy letting me out of here.”

“Who said anything about you leaving?” Bucky shoots back, reaching for the handle of the door, only to freeze when a hand grips his arm.

“Please,” Stark says, almost pleading, “just tell me why I’m here?”

There’s something almost lost in his gaze, and Bucky can’t believe that he’d let the bravado act fool him. The man had spent months being tortured, only to be rescued by people who he would consider enemies, then to be told that his sire is dead and one of his closest advisors probably did it.

He didn’t need any more delays, even if the delay consisted of blood which he clearly needed.

“Because Stane is waging a war on us, on everyone, using extremis,” Bucky answers. “Because none of the other vampire clans will listen to us when we say that we had nothing to do with Howard’s death and your kidnapping. Because we have tried over and over to get into the castle to get a cure, have had informants try to get it out, and all of them have failed. Because you’re the rightful heir to the throne, and we need someone who can get in there and get us the cure to this virus that’s killing us! Because we made a gamble that even if you hate us, you don’t want to see our world _burn_!”

Stark stares at him for a long moment, emotions rushing across his face so fast that Bucky can’t keep up with them, before a slow smirk crosses the man’s face.

“You practice that one a bit, solider?”

Bucky can’t help but let out a snort, even as his heart is racing, the fear that he’s been trying to push down and away just bubbling under the surface.

They’ve been fighting this war for months now, have been trying to find a cure to stop the virus from wiping them out for just as long, and nothing they’ve done has been successful. They’re running out of options, running out of plans, their people falling to the virus more and more every day, and just the thought makes his chest tight, the breaths hard to get in. Their only option now is to get into the vampire castle and get the cure out.

He should be annoyed by the vampire’s casual comment, but something about it just charms him.

“Maybe once,” he replies, smirk turning into a grin, not missing the small squeeze the vampire gives to his arm, before letting go.

“If I’m going to help you guys, I’m going to need two things.”

“Only two?”

“First, wouldn’t say no to that blood you were offering before,” he starts.

“Second?”

“I need you to help me get in contact with the Black Widow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, apologies for not updating sooner. And not replying to comments! (will be checking back this time around, so I actually see them!). Hope you enjoyed this update! :D


	4. The Spider's Web

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wishing everyone a Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!!! :D.

Honestly, Tony should’ve known that the blood would come from a bag again, what with who was kindly ‘housing’ him at the moment. But seeing it still makes him grimace. It always tasted so stale and bland, what he imagines stale bread would taste like to the humans, or maybe old meat to the wolves.

Still, it was sustenance, and would help him build his strength, and that wasn’t something he was going to turn his nose up at, not if he wanted to destroy Stane for what he’d done to his sire and their people. Taking a long sip, he tunes back into the conversation in front of him. 

“The Black Widow?”

And finds himself pinned by the intense stare coming from the Captain. For just a second his breath catches at the look, the intensity making a warmth run through him that he has never felt before.

“You want us to communicate with the Black Widow? You want us to go looking for one of the most dangerous vampires to exist? Who’s known for acting first and asking questions later?”

And just like that the feeling’s gone, replaced with a bristling anger at the judgement and condescension he can hear in the tone.

“I didn’t say anything about going looking, I know exactly where the Black Widow is. And if you want me back in the castle to get your cure, this is how we do it!”

“Oh it is, is it?” Rogers growls, moving close enough that Tony can feel the heat coming off him, trying to ignore the way it makes him want to feel that warmth wrapped around him.

“You want me to go into the lion’s den, with a lion who knows that I know what he’s done. He’ll have me killed before you can shift. With Nat, he’ll think twice. Her clan is one of the most powerful in our kingdom. There’s a reason she has her reputation, and even Stane isn’t stupid enough to take her on at the moment, not while he’s at war with you, not while he’s still trying to get all the clans on side.”

“For someone who’s supposedly been locked up, you seem to know an awful lot about the politics going on in the vampire world. How can we be sure this wasn’t all a trap? Maybe you were in on it all from the start? Easy way to take the throne but not the blame?”

And that has Tony’s canines elongating, not missing the change of blue eyes to red on the werewolf in front of him when it happens. Before things can escalate a warm hand grips his arm, the scent of oak and charcoal surrounding him, taking some of the bite of his anger away.

“Don’t be stupid, Stevie. Anyone with an ounce of sense can figure out that Stane won’t risk a war within his own people until he’s taken out the outside threat that he thinks will unite them under him.”

For a second Tony considers finishing what he was about to start. If the Captain really thinks that he would stoop low enough to have himself imprisoned and sit by so that Howard would be killed, he’s not sure these are people he should be working with.

“I wouldn’t recommend it,” the Soldier rumbles low in his ear, like he can tell what Tony’s thinking, and Tony can’t stop the shiver that runs down his spine at it. Turning his head, he takes in the soft, apologetic expression on the Soldier’s face, and feels some more of the anger slip away.

For a second he can feel the grief well up in him again as he realizes that Howard really is gone, that his people really are at war, before he snaps the mask back into place. He can tell the other man saw it though, given the small squeeze on his arm before it’s let go.

“Now, why don’t we all take a step back,” the Solider continues, gently pushing on his Alpha’s shoulder to get him to do so. Tony doesn’t miss the glare the man sends his second, and can’t help the small smirk, which has the glare falling back on him.

“And you tell us exactly what this plan will look like.”

**

“Anthony Stark.”

Tony can’t help but relax a little at the soft voice that seems to surround him. Oh, he knows the woman walking down the stairs is possibly the most dangerous vampire, dangerous being, to ever exist. That she could take them all, the two werewolves included, out in a second.

But he’s known her since before he can remember, she’s something familiar and consistent. And right now he needs that more than anything.

He hadn’t really been prepared for hearing that Howard was gone. They’d had a tumultuous relationship, Howard never happy with him or his work, never happy with his designs. Nothing he did was ever good enough, and Howard was never one to shy away from telling Tony exactly what he thought of him, his designs and his ability to be heir to the Vampire throne.

But he was his sire, and Tony had always wanted to be worthy of being his heir, of being the next to take their people into a new age.

So seeing the Widow walking down the stairs, flowing black dress with a thigh high split that showed off her shapely legs, felt like some stability in a world that had been thrown off kilter.

“Natalia Romanov,” he replies, smiling as the red head comes to stop on the bottom step, hand resting against the rail. Her eyes run over him for a few seconds, before turning to his companions.

He’d tried to just get the Solider, Bucky, he’d said his name was, to come with him. There had been something about the brunette that had eased the tension that had built up in Tony’s chest since his rescue. Something behind the pale blue eyes that resonated with Tony. Plus the fact that he didn’t seem to be as much of a hot head as the so called ‘Captain’. And when dealing with the Black Widow, one needed to keep their head or risk losing it at her hands.

But the Captain had insisted he was coming too, not willing to listen to Tony, or apparently let him out of his sight.

And really, Tony can’t blame him. He’d seen the way the two werewolves had paled at first when he had mentioned needing the Black Widow, had heard the way their heart rates had sped up a notch.

He’s glad that even if the Captain seems like an idiot, he’s not a complete idiot.

Anyone who isn’t at least a little nervous about meeting Nat is not someone he should ally himself with. And apparently he was their last hope at getting the cure, so the Captain not willing to let him go alone made some sense, even if it irritated Tony to no end.

“Steven Grant Rogers,” she continues, pushing off the rail to close the distance between them, ruby red lips smirking at the way the Captain seems to shift slightly in front of his second.

“James Buchanan Barnes.”

Tony can’t help but roll his eyes when the Captain growls, although all it seems to do is amuse Nat even more, her head cocking to one side.

“I have to admit, when Maria said that I had guests, I had no idea it would be members of the Clans now sworn enemy. Brave of you to wander into the spider’s web.”

“They’re with me,” Tony answers, taking a step forwards.

Nat’s eyes seem to linger on the Captain and Bucky for a moment longer, before settling back on him.

“Is that so?” she replies, raising an eyebrow, before striding off towards a set of doors. Tony might care for the woman, but he had forgotten just how infuriating she could be when she was playing one of her games, and clearly with the two wolves there, she wasn’t about to drop her mask with the so called enemy.

Looking up at the roof for a moment, he took a calming breath, before following after the older vampire.

“Nat, you have to already know what’s going on?” Tony starts, not surprised to see Nat already seated, glass of blood in her hand.

“Of course I do, dorogoy.”

Tony doesn’t miss the way Bucky tenses at that, nor the small movement the wolf makes in his direction. Neither does Nat, who lets out a chuckle.

“Well, well,” she murmurs, taking a sip of her drink, eyes resting thoughtfully on the Soldier for a moment. “Isn’t that interesting?”

“Then will you help us?” Tony continues, ignoring her previous remark, knowing how the older vampire can get when she’s amused, not wanting them to get side tracked when time was only running out for them.

She taps her finger nail against her glass for a few moments, eyes meeting his again.

“You know Stane has a bounty out on your pretty little head?”

And Tony finds it hard to ignore the growl that comes from next to him, shocked to realize it came from the Captain and not his second. He can’t help but flick his eyes over to the blonde, surprised when he sees how obviously tense the Alpha is, his hackles clearly raised. It’s like the two idiots didn’t listen to a word he’d told them before they’d come in.

If they kept doing what they were, the Black Widow was going to rip their throats out before he could have the opportunity to plead their case.

But for some reason Nat seems to find the Captain’s reaction even more amusing, a laugh leaving her again as she stood up.

“I have known him much longer than you, dear Captain, and if I want to call him pretty I will,” she states, striding forwards, hand reaching out to cup Tony’s cheek gently. “This is a dangerous game you’re entering into, kotyonok. Why not just stay here with me? Stane need never know and you would want for nothing.”

What Nat is offering to him was the smart choice to make and he could tell that she meant it from the look on her face. He had never really wanted to be a King, had never really wanted the throne. He was most happy when he had been left to his work shop to build and create.

But he knows if he picked that option, that would leave the wolves to their fate, if they even made it out of Nat’s house alive. And for some reason, the thought of letting them down made something heavy grow in his chest.

Plus he had seen what Extremis could do, had seen what it did to people. He couldn’t just ignore his duty to his people anymore, even if he had never really wanted it.

Clearly seeing the answer on his face, Nat cupped his other cheek, leaning up and kissing his forehead gently, before letting him go and taking her seat again.

“What is it you need me to do?”

“I need you to get me back into the castle.”

She looks at him for a long moment, swirling the contents of her glass as she stares at him.

“And what exactly is in this for me?”

Tony’s not even sure how he knows, but he has his hand out, stopping the broad chest of the stupid Alpha werewolf who is going to get them all killed if he doesn’t learn to control his temper.

Looking up, he can’t help the way his stomach swoops at the stormy look on the other man’s face. He knows that he’s spent a moment too long looking at his face when he hears an amused ‘hmm’, a smirk on Nat’s face when he turns to look back at her, her eyes flicking down to where Tony’s hand still rests. Moving it away, Tony tells himself that it was not reluctantly, the other man is a complete idiot, and this is all just a means to an end for them both.

“Well?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.

“What do you need?”


End file.
